The Soldier, the Witch and the Fool
by Indigonoir
Summary: What if the past and the present collided and love and desire transcended time. Sometimes a happy ending takes time, even centuries. A modern take on the age old story of Arthur and Guinevere.
1. Chapter 1

The Soldier, the Witch, and the Fool

Prologue

_Let me tell you a story._

It began. Gwen stared her young son as he kneeled before her, his shocking blue eyes looking up at her expectedly. He had just turned nine and already he could sit a horse and shoot a bow at its mark. Forever his father's son, his impatience clearly visible in a cocked brow. When she saw that, hints of Arthur, her heart ached. Arthur, who died not knowing he had a fine strong son. Arthur went out to save the world and never returned.

"Are you hurt mother?" Gian asked, his small hand reached up to touch her cheek. He had her coloring, a buttery caramel brown, darkened even more by the summer sun and days riding and playing outdoors.

Gwen stared down to see she had been rubbing the place over her heart. She felt foolish, even after all these years, how a dull, lingering reminder remained. The greatest reminder of all stared up at her. She smiled and the pain eased.

"Fine dear, just fine," she said, ruffling his curly dark brown hair. " Now let me tell you a story of the soldier, the witch and the fool."

Chapter 1

Gwen's head ached. The dream had been vivid. Every scent, taste and sight overwhelmed her. She awoke each morning, her head throbbing, her breathing labored and her body drained. It seemed to get worse and if it didn't stop, she knew she might lose her mind. Her body moist with sweat, her muscle ached from unknown excertion she stripped off the damp bedding and struggled to sit up. Her head swayed a bit. She forced herself to focus, taking in a small studio apartment, her meager belongings. She ran her fingers through her tangled hair, trying to get the mass of wavy thick hair under some control. It had come loose during the night. She searched between the crumpled sheets for the rubber band. When she couldn't find it, she abandoned any control and hoped the shower would help with her aching body and her wayward hair. She stood and stretched and tried to get some semblance of life.

She stood in her small apartment, with its view of the Manhattan skyline, an enticing sliver between two tall buildings and yawned. Brooklyn had provided an opportunity for her to live affordably and still stay close to Manhattan and her job. Only a subway ride away, across the East River to 53rd Street to the top floors of the Penn Building. She'd start her new job today, administrative assistant, or glorified gofer. She didn't care, it provided opportunities, to work for the powerful Penn family. If they asked her to do their laundry she'd do it with a smile on her face and a paycheck in her pocket. She abandoned all thought of servitude when she saw the time.

"Wake up Guinevere." She rubbed the sides of her face and headed for the bathroom. An hour later she stepped out of the 59th Street Subway stations with thousand other Manhattan commuters. Dressed in her best, she headed for Penn Towers, the New York Headquarters of Penn International. She'd beat out several applicants for the position and understood the importance of the opportunity presented before her. By the time she got to the polish chrome bank of elevators the dream of the night before had become a faded memory. She felt more like herself.

When the elevator doors open she stepped inside with others pressing to fill the small compartment. Thankfully, she stood at the front and tried desperately not to let her claustrophobia get the better of her. She took a small deep breath, remembered what Doctor Menzies told her about how to relieve the anxiety of being shut into small spaces. She took another deep breath and closed her eyes as the door began to close. Before they did, a hand shoved in between the closing doors. She looked up to see the smiling face of a young man, dark hair, striking blue eyes and a goofy smile.

"Sorry, sorry…." the man said, bumping her slightly. The English accent surprised her, and she smiled. He took this as an invitation to smile back. She made more space for him in the crowded elevator.

"Thanks and they say New Yorkers aren't friendly," he chirped.

"Mister you step on my ingrown one more time and you'll see how friendly I can be," a voice grumbled from behind. The young man apologized again before returning his attention to her.

"My first day," he whispered conspiratorially.

She nearly giggled admitting it was her first as well. "Let me guess, Penn International?"

"How'd you know?" His eyes widen with wonder.

"The accent you idiot." Someone said from the back of the elevator as it whizzed pass each floor.

So much for the New York hospitality, Gwen mused.

The stranger had been right. Penn International was a London based company, with markets all over the world. Gwen found out many of the employees were transplanted Brits. If you heard a non American accent, chances were they worked for Penn International. She loved that about the company. A bit of an Angophile, she felt comfortable working with the international staff.

"Guess so," the young man mused. "I'm Merlyn, Ambrose Merlyn."

Gwen almost laughed out loud. Someone had a worse name than she did. God only knew what their mothers were thinking. She didn't laugh, but raised a brow.

"Everyone just calls me Merlyn," he confessed as they almost reach the top floors.

"Gwen," she said simply, not admitting her full name. "Gwen Grainer."

The elevator was nearly empty by the time they opened up on the top floors. Only a few others remained as she and Merlyn stepped out into the expansive suites of offices that made up Penn International.

"You work for Penn as well?" he'd asked as they walked the long marble corridor.

"Personal assistant to Ms. Morgan and you?"

They stopped before the reached the large reception area. "Same here, but not for Ms. Morgan but for…."

They were interrupted by yelling. A man's voice clear and quite English rose through the office chatter, that went deadly silent.

"If I wanted a personal assistant, I would have asked for one Father, what am I twelve," the man said. The voice was coming from the executive offices that took up much of the floor.

"If I needed an idiot to follow me around and wipe my nose, I would have stayed in London."

Gwen took note the effect of the cringe worthy tirade coming from behind the closed door, as people in the office tried to be inconspicuous.

"That would be the reason, I'm here," a dejected Merlyn said. This confused Gwen.

"Arthur Penn, I'm the said wiper of noses," he said gallantly, giving her a deprecating smile.

Gwen wanted to laugh, but a wave of overwhelming déjà vu hit her. With the mention of Arthur's name, she was suddenly taken aback, suck into the all consuming nightmare of hours before. The sights, sounds and the overwhelming grief.

_Let me tell you a story_

She swayed as the memories hit her and then felt the sure, strong hands on her forearm.

"Are you alright?" Merlyn asked. His look of concern genuine.

"Suddenly…" She struggled to say as her mouth seemed too dry to form the words. "I… I."

Blackness.

She fell into the abyss without struggle, letting it take her away. Something pulled at her, trying to bring her back, but she resisted. She wanted to stay and float away. She felt herself crumble.

"Gwen!"

Someone called to her from a distance.

"Give her air," another said as she sensed people around her.

"What in the hell…"

It was the voice that pulled her back. That clear irritated voice of a man who lingered in her dreams and nightmare. She opened her eyes to him and nearly fainted again.

_The Soldier. _


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

She woke to the sight of the bluest eyes she'd ever seen; clear as a summer sky blue. A blue the color of a satin ribbon on a velveteen dress, a favorite of his. He liked the cut of it, the way she filled it. He love it in the way his fingers traced the delicate embroidered flowers that decorated neck.

As clear as memory.

She blinked. She took a breath and another. The memory faded and became as faint as an echo. A chill over took her, as if someone had pulled away a blanket on a winter's day. She shivered at the sensation as her eyes began to burn and fill with tears.

"Get away, you're upsetting her," a stern female voice said. The familiarity of the voice pulled her to her senses and the present.

The Present?

She'd fainted. She remembered that and little else. When she tried to sit up, her head swarm. Other faces stared down at her. Her confusion shifted to embarrassment in a heartbeat. Not only had she fainted, she'd done it in the presences of Penn's CEO, Aldrich Penn, his son Arthur and his niece and her boss Keira Morgan and assorted Penn's executives and underlings.

"Easy there," the familiar voice of Merlyn said. He took a seat by her and placed a steadying arm around her shoulder. It took her a moment to realize they were sitting on a couch, a very expensive nice one. The memory of someone placing her there eluded her. The last she remembered they were in the executive offices reception area.

"I'm okay," she said with not much conviction as she took in her surroundings slowly. The fine furnishings, paintings, and the classic style of Aldrich Penn. The corner office had an expansive view of Manhattan. She'd seen enough photographs in magazines of the Penn's family English estate, apartments in various cities, including New York. Known for his strong sense of tradition, Aldrich brought this to his surroundings and his business. The Penn family name and accomplishments went back centuries. She'd learned that much reading up the company.

"Don't you feed your assistant Keira," Arthur Penn said in a tart tone. The owner of those blues eyes glared down at her as if she were a specimen under glass.. Unable to hold his gaze, Gwen looked turned away.

"I'm fine," she insisted and tried to get up, but Merlyn stopped her. She hated being the center of attention. Despite Kiera and Merlyn's concern, she wanted to disappear. "I skipped breakfast and the….excitement of the day…..it just got away from me."

"Rest a bit," Meryln said, his voice soft and soothing.

"I'm so sorry Ms. Morgan," Gwen said as she slipped out of Merlyn's embrace and stood on uncertain legs. The beautiful face of Kiera Morgan stared back at her, her eyes filled with worry. Gwen gave her a reassuring smile. She'd had been a warm and friendly face in a sea of furrowed brow and frowns. Aldrich looked none too please to have Morgan' assistant dumped unceremoniously on the couch in his office. His son looked equally perturbed. Tall, handsome to a fault, Arthur Penn had the bearing of a man who knew his place in the world and expected everyone one else to know as well.

"No worries dear," Kiera insisted taking Gwen's hands, "My god your hands are ice."

"Cold hands, warm heart," Merlyn cheerfully added as he came to stand by her side. Did he think she might faint again? She did appreciate his presence

"Maybe you should have a less fragile assistant," Aldrich said, matching his son's cool demeanor with an arched brow. Not as tall as his Arthur, Aldrich remained a strikingly handsome man, despite his graying hair and scowl. While Arthur seemed aloof, Aldrich projected an air of privilege. She didn't like him. She didn't much like Arthur. He had a tendency to look at her and not see her. She liked Merlyn though, and Keira.

"I am fine," she said more firmly and straightened her back. "Thank you for all your help." She took Merlyn's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"What are you thanking him for, I'm the one that carried you," Arthur said in huff, turned, and headed for the door, now she was no longer in peril. "Fool couldn't pick up a clue."

"I better go," Merlyn said, and then leaned in close to whisper. "Just in case he finds a clue." He gave a broad grin before following Arthur. She almost laughed.

"It's time for everyone to return to work." Aldrich said sternly. Keira smiled at him and it seemed to melt the coldness around his eyes. Whatever general indifference he had toward her or the rest of the world, Aldrich adored his family, especially his niece Keira. He took her in when his business partner and wife died, leaving Keira an orphan at the age of six. There seemed to be nothing he wouldn't give her. If Arthur was the prince to the Penn Empire, than Keira was its princess. In true fairytale fashion, everyone expected Arthur to marry her one day, though she didn't think it likely. They acted more like brother and sister than potential mates.

What amazed Gwen, despite being raised by Aldrich and with Arthur, Keira always seemed approachable, friendly, and warm. When Gwen interviewed for the position, Keira treated it less like an interview for an assistant and more for a search for a companion. She knew other applicants had better resumes, education and connections, yet Keira picked her. By the time the interview had concluded, they were giggling like schoolgirls.. If the Penn Empire had a heart, it would be Keira

"Let's get out of Aldrich's way as he tries to rule the world," Kiera said with a teasing smile. Aldrich returned the smile and waved them away. Kiera pulled Gwen outside the office. Once outside, Kiera stopped to face her.

"Now let's take a really good look at you," she said sternly and gave Gwen a scrutinizing look. "You look as if you haven't slept for days."

Kiera was more perceptive that Gwen cared for, because her words were true. She hadn't slept well in days. She would never admit this, no matter how friendly Keira was. She remained her employer not matter how friendly.

"I'm just excited," Gwen said. She didn't lie. The job as Keira Morgan's assistant would change her life. There would be no more part-time or dead-end jobs. She'd never been ambitious but wanted a good life for herself. The last few years had been hard. For the longest time, she only had her father. She worked in his small neighborhood electronic shop in Brooklyn since she was a little girl. One night everything had changed. Working late one night, he'd been trapped in a fire when the building burnt down, leaving her with no one and grieving. She never thought she could get past her father's death, but she knew he wouldn't want her to stop her life because of him.

"You are the brightest star in my life, Gwen," he always said and she missed him terribly. She imaged him watching over her and wondering if he would be proud.

"I'm excited too," Keira, said smiling at her. "Aldrich just purchase Garneau Fashion house and I've been allowed to revamp the entire thing."

"I read something about them," Gwen said as tried to remember. "A family own garment business for about seventy five years, right?"

Keira nodded and seemed pleased.

From all the research she had done about Penn family, Garneau was a small region business that wouldn't affect Penn's bottom line if it disappeared the next day. Gwen saw it for what it was; Aldrich Penn had given his adopted daughter something to play with. Gwen didn't care; she had a good job, a boss that she liked and a career. If Keira Morgan wanted to take over the family business, she wouldn't care. In fact, she'd help her do it. Thankfully, her only concern was not to faint again and find out more about Garneau. It also It seemed clear Kiera had something to prove.

By day's end, an exhausted Gwen managed not to faint, complete Kiera's schedule for the next few days and begun an in-depth research about Garneau. She'd still be at her desk if Keira hadn't insisted she go home. She decided to take her Garneau research home, pick up some take-out, and spend the rest of the evening reading.

She gathered her things from the desk that sat outside of Kiera's office. She took a quick glance at the schedule for the next day and switched off her computer,. She dumped the Garneau files into her pocketbook, and headed for the elevator. She checked her watch and realized time had gotten away from her. At seven thirty, a few diligent employees remained. She saw Merlyn still at his desk entranced by the glow of his computer. His nimble fingers danced along the keyboard. He seemed oblivious to the world. She smiled at the sight of him.

"You know office romances are forbidden."

She nearly jumped as she turned to the sight of Arthur Penn.

"Excuse me?" She said, slightly confused. She turned back to Merlyn and back to Arthur, finally understanding his meaning.

"I'm sure you've read the company policy, but just to make it clear." He crossed his arms as he glared down at her.

"You've got…"

"The thing is I'd lose." He seemed to give this some consideration.

"Lose what?" She struggled to follow his line of thought.

"If you mess with Merlyn. I'd lose." His brow furrowed. "Because between the two of you, one of you would have to go and it wouldn't be you. Keira's found something to play with and father wants her happy. If it mean losing another assistant and I'm on number three by the way if you care." His eyes narrowed a bit. "I'm sure you don't. So hands off. I can actually tolerate him, so control yourself."

His hand slammed the elevator button. She stared at him as if he lost his mind and he had. She tried to find the words to tell him so without insulting him or losing her job. She couldn't.

The elevator doors open and Arthur stepped inside. Gwen stood frozen to the sight of Arthur giving her a knowing smirk and pressing the close button. The door slid shut, silently.

Gwen huffed in disbelief.

"What a prick!"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 

Gwen picked at her salad. Merlyn's offer to lunch hadn't buoyed her mood. She'd been at Penn for nearly a month and felt hampered. She'd thought working with Kiera on the Garneau Project would allow her to show her true abilities. It hadn't. However her frustration paled in comparisons to Kiera. While Aldrich Penn had given Kiera the Garneau Project, he did little else but delay her attempts at reviving the small design house. His lack of support kept Kiera's ambitious ideas in check. It also kept Gwen doing very little but answering calls, organizing and managing Kiera's small staff. Thought the salary had been nice, she wanted something more.

"Aldrich, is just preoccupied," Merlyn offered. He had amount full of pastrami sandwich. Ever since Gwen introduced him one of her favorite downtown delis, the man couldn't get enough of the food.

"That's the excuse he always gives. Garneau doesn't seem viable or the market isn't right. It just sound a like a bunch of excuses. He promised Kiera this and it's breaking her heart that he pours much of his attention into Arthur."

From the expression on Merlyn's face, he seemed too empathized. "One day, Arthur will run this company. Aldrich has to know he's ready."

Gwen rolled her eyes. Everyone seemed him impressed with the younger Penn; her not so much. He walked around the office like strutting peacock giving orders and making Merlyn's miserable. She thought him a bully and made every effort to avoid him. Merlyn leaned across the table and beckoned her to do the same.

"Someone been going after Penn, trying to weaken the company's position. Lately, several deals have been sabotaged. Someone is trying very hard to bring down the House of Penn." He said just above a whisper. Gwen stared at him, not sure it wasn't one of many practical jokes he was so fond of playing. He seemed serious.

"Really!" She sat back in her chair contemplating her words.

He nodded.

"We don't know who, or even why. This can't go any further than this." He pointed at both of them.

"What about Kiera?"

He should his head? "If Aldrich doesn't deem to tell her, it's not my place."

Reluctantly she agreed.

"One of the reason Arthur came over from London. Someone's been trying to undermine our American holdings. Beside Great Britain, our holdings here are one our biggest. If she goes, it would put us on shaky ground. Over the past forty years, Penn had invested a lot here. Now someone wants to dismantle it." He said soberly.

"And you don't know who?"

Merlyn shook his head.

"What can Arthur do but yell at everyone to do their job," she said with a hint of disgust.

Merlyn gave her broad smile that seemed to lighten his entire face. That what she like so much about him. His ability to smile in the middle of adversity or when Arthur has no one else to scream at.

"Despite his good looks, expensive suits, charm and empathy for others, Arthur Penn is a fantastic lawyer. In the court room he's fearless, smart and ruthless. He's made it his life's work to protect his father's legacy and the legacy of the company."

"You're joking about the first part right," she teased. She also knew what Merlyn had said was true. Arthur's reputation as a litigator in an out of court had been well known. While Aldrich ruled Penn with an iron will, Arthur protected it with an iron fist.

"I never understood how he could practice law in America without going to school here," she said.

"In the state of New York you can. He had to take the New York Bar Examine like any other lawyer and acceptance to the New York Bar Association. Which he did in record time. Aldrich made sure of that."

"How? Did he bribe someone?" She wouldn't put it passed Aldrich to do something so underhanded.

Merlyn laughed. "Hardly, Arthur knows if he didn't, the repercussion from his father…." He shook he head, refusing to go on any further.

"What would he do to his own son?" Gwen said with some doubt.

"To Aldrich, it's all about his family's legacy. He expects Arthur to sacrifice to ensure that legacy."

Gwen huffed and gave him a dismissive wave. "What does a spoil heir apparent have to sacrifice?"

He gave her a placating expression, Gwen didn't quite understand. Maybe Merlyn knew more about the Penn family than she did. This didn't stop her from believing Arthur to be pampered prince.

"Arthur aside, someone is coming after the company. Contracts have to rewritten, allies have to be appeased and new ones have to be forged to keep the wolves at bay, whoever they may be."

"You're serious."

Merlyn nodded. They finished rest of their meal in companionable silence. Gwen contemplated what Merlyn had told her. No wonder Aldrich's focus hadn't been on the small fashion house he'd given to Kiera. Garneau was but one room in the enormous house of Penn. If Merlyn told the truth, someone was trying to burn the entire house down. As they finished their lunch and made their way back to the office, Merlyn reiterated she not tell Kiera about what was happening. Her worry wouldn't help and possible defuse Aldrich's focus on solving a more important problem. She hated it but she promised.

The promise would be difficult. She'd become close to Kiera. Merlyn was equally her friend. The problem weight on her as she stepped out of the elevator. Her heart found no relief at the sight of Arthur talking with Kiera. The sight of Kiera smiling pleased her a bit but not by much. When Arthur caught sight of her, his gaze cut right through her.

"There you are, how was lunch?" Kiera asked.

"Fine," Gwen said tightly, trying hard to ignore Arthur's eyes.

"I have to get her out of the office, or she wouldn't take a break." A smiling Kiera admonished.

"I heard." Arthur smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. "Kiera told me she asked Merlyn to take you to lunch to get you out of the office. Despite his outward demeanor, Gwen recognized Arthur's displeasure.

"Did she?" Gwen put on a smile of her own.

"Oh my, I'm late," Kiera said checking her watch. "Aldrich said he'll give me fifteen minutes before for his meeting with Carter Sloane. Are you coming Arthur."

Kiera grabbed a file off Gwen's desk. Gwen knew it was their latest in several proposals to get Garneau in the black before it was too late. Short of begging, she didn't know what else Kiera could do to convince Aldrich, Garneau was an excellent investment. She watched Kiera walked away, hopeful and expectant. Remembering what Merlyn had told her, she knew Aldrich would break her heart- again.

"Tell father I'll be there in a moment. I forgot something from my office we'll need for Sloane," Arthur said, not moving from his spot. He waited for the elevator's doors to close on Kiera before his full attention on Gwen.

"I thought we had conversation about fraternization?" he said coolly.

Momentarily preoccupied with Kiera's fate with Aldrich, Arthur's words slowly registered with her. She took in his dour expression, handsome as it was and cocked a brow at him.

"I didn't make the arrangements, Kiera did. Besides, Merlyn's my friend." She said.

"Once again, you miss my point." He said tightly.

Her other brow went up.

"You lied about the company policy, I checked. No such thing." She said firmly. This seemed to surprise him a bit. Maybe he didn't think she'd question his word or check.

"So Beit," he said gathering himself. "It's unwritten. A general understanding as part of the corporate culture of this company."

She nodded in understanding.

"You still lied, unwritten or not. As for the corporate culture, anytime any British sporting event is being played somewhere in the world, the men in this company seemed drop a few IQ point and all work stops." She said with a hint of frost to her voice.

This time Arthur's brow went up this time.

"Excuse me!"

"Football, and I'm not talking about the one with helmets and cheerleaders. Everyone seems to turn a blind eyes to that when half the office going a little crazy. This not to say the American staff don't go a little crazy when the football with the helmets and cheerleaders start their season. I guess that okay, culturally speaking."

"That's different," he said with some indignation.

"You played in school didn't you and doesn't the company hold some interest in one of the professional teams or something. It doesn't matter," she said dismissively.

Arthur blinked at her.

"Arthur's unwritten rules are to be followed. Football and romance must be covered." She mocked.

She saw his face flush, the clear blue eyes turn dark, the color of a stormy sea. This must be the look he gave his opponents in court. The sight of the fierce warrior who took no prisoners or tolerated any rebuke.

"Would you like it writing?" He's words turned to ice. Arthur Penn did not like to be teased. "I could arrange that."

Gwen stiffened her shoulders and glared back at him. She's done nothing wrong. Her friendship with Merlyn was only that, a friendship. Despite what Merlyn had told her about what Arthur hade sacrifice, she saw little of that man before. Before her stood the bully, the lawyer and Aldrich's captain of the guard. Also, she knew he'd do it. Before the days end, there would be a policy written by himself or one his minions. He would shove it into her face with glee in his eyes, just to prove his point.

Something told her to back down, to apologize, throw herself on the mercy of his arrogance, but she couldn't.

"You can do whatever you wish. You are Arthur Penn. But when it come to my heart and who I care about…" she hesitated, distracted by the intensity of his glare. She felt the old sensation of déjà vu and pushed it back. "No court or written policy no matter how well worded will had say who I care about or love."

Something in his eyes flinched, for the briefest of moment. A hint of something that set him back, away from her. As quickly as it came, it went and the dark blue sea of his eyes returned. Without saying another word, he turned and left. Leaving her there wondering had something else gone on between them.

She'd left Arthur speechless.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"What do you think of Carter Sloane?" Kiera asked, with a slight grin.

The question took Gwen by surprise. She knew very little of the multi-millionaire, except that he had been in talks with Aldrich regarding a possible joint project. At least ten years Kiera's senior and quite handsome. It didn't surprise, Gwen when Kiera seemed intrigued by him. She'd grown up with two powerful men; Aldrich and Arthur.

"Where did you see Carter Sloane?" Gwen asked, trying to avoid the question. She a great many opinions about a lot of things, but her boss's love life would not be one of them.

"Before his meeting with Aldrich. I'd met him once at a party of a friend but not formally. Up close he's very attractive."

"Very," Gwen said cautiously. She didn't like the look in Kiera's eyes. Despite what Aldrich thought, Kiera's focus, determination matched Arthur's any day. She constantly teased him on her better grades, his social shortcomings and often-brutish manner. If Aldrich couldn't see it, Gwen could. Kiera was more than Arthur's equal. But she also knew Aldrich would never hand over the reins of Penn to Kiera, not while Arthur was alive.

"We had a wonderful discussion about Garneau. He had some amazing ideas." Kiera stared down to the New York City street below. Her eyes seemed filled with possibilities.

"What kind of ideas?" Gwen asked, standing next to her. She looked down as well. It seemed a long way down and a hard place to land. She turned to Kiera, her face filled with delight and if she weren't mistaken, mischief.

"Oh, this and that," Kiera said finally facing her. Her eyes narrowed. "You look tired. I think I overworked you."

Gwen laughed. "I can do what you give me in my sleep, but that's the problem."

This seemed to confuse Kiera.

"I'm just having problems sleeping, that's all." Gwen shrugged and stepped away from the window. She didn't want to talk about her insomnia. She wanted to know about Kiera's interest in Carter Sloane. If Sloane was filling her head with ideas from Garneau, how would this sit with Aldrich.

"Why?" Kiera asked. She took a seat at her desk and motioned Gwen to sit as well.

Gwen didn't want to sit, or talk about her sleeplessness. She shook her head and held out a folder for Kiera. A report she'd worked on all night. Sometimes insomnia gave her lots of free time.

"I've looked at the past three years of Garneau's sales. And I think I know where things went wrong. Why their last season failed miserably."

"You're changing the subject," Kiera said sternly.

"I would rather talk about business," Gwen replied.

"It won't do my business any good if you fall flat on your face. For heaven stake, take a seat." Kiera commanded, her eyes filled with concern. She pointed to the couch that had a wonderful panoramic view of downtown Manhattan. Gwen obliged, but regretted sitting on the soft plush couch. She wanted to close her eyes the moment her body relaxed into it. She sighed in resignation.

"Why can't you sleep?" Kiera came over to join her.

"I truly don't know." Gwen shrugged. "At first I thought it was about the job, but it seems to be going well, right?"

Kiera reassured her with a nod.

"My life should be perfect, but when I go home so tired I can barely stand, I dream and wake in such a state. I'm covered in sweat, my eyes are red from crying and I have such an ache…." Gwen closed her eyes as she struggled to explain. She placed her fist over her heart and rubbed as if the memory of the pain had lingered. She dreaded that feeling and had grown to fear it.

"Well, maybe you still haven't gotten over the loss of your father. It took me some time to get over my parents' death, if you truly get over it." Kiera put a gentle arm around Gwen's shoulder.

"I do miss my father. But a part of me believes, he is still with me, protecting me. I miss him differently and that pain is less and less with each passing day. But this is something more disturbing, more frightening, I think."

"Frightening how?"

"I don't know. That's the problem, I don't know where this is coming from. It feels like memory, but it's not." Gwen tried to explain.

Kiera gave her a thoughtful look as they sat in silence as she held Gwen close.

"I wake and feel overwhelmed by it and that scares me. It feels like grief, but much worse. As if someone has taken a piece of me, that I will never get back. There aren't enough tears for me to fill this hole I have here." Gwen place a hand over her heart again and rubbed.

"You told me you weren't seeing anyone." Kiera looked surprised.

"I haven't. Anyway, my last boyfriend was before my father's death. He didn't stick around and I didn't care."

"I only say this because it sounds like someone you loved broke your heart. As if you are grieving some past love."

Gwen laughed. "Unless you count Jimmy Pinchot from the fourth grade, who I loved deeply, I don't think so."

Kiera smiled. "I don't think this is about Jimmy Pinchot, whom I'm sure was a romance of a lifetime."

"Excluding Jimmy Pinchot, who was hot, there really hasn't been really anyone who could make me feel this way. There isn't a man in the tri-state area that would raise my temper up past lukewarm. Truthfully, I don't think such a man exists."

"Oh dear, that's not good. What about Merlyn?" Kiera said with a twinkle in her eye.

This time Gwen giggled and Kiera had to join her.

"Merlyn is a really great friend and made working here with you so much fun."

"Okay, no Merlyn. But someone?"

Gwen shook her head. She dated like everyone else, but could never make it pass the second or third date. Each time, the encounter left her wanting more. Though there had been some eager prospects each felt hollow to her. They lack the passion she seemed to want. She was about to tell Kiera this when someone knocked on the office door. Keira got up from her couch and bid them to enter. It was Merlyn.

"Hi," he said in his most unassuming manner. When he saw Gwen and the state she was in, he came to her. "What's wrong?"

"She hasn't been able to sleep," Kiera said, with her own concern.

"You do look tired." Merlyn took a seat next to her.

Gwen felt foolish. She knew it was only a matter of time when her bout of insomnia would end and her life would get back to normal. Though she did appreciate the support she hated the attention.

"You're going to leave work early today, go home and crawl into bed and rest. I need you at a hundred percent." Kiera insisted.

"I can't…." Gwen sputtered. "I hadn't finished…."

"Go…" Kiera pointed to the door.

Merlyn helped her up. Reluctant to leave work for half a day, she pleaded with Kiera, who ignored her. When she finally relented to leave, she was stopped by Merlyn, who remembered why he'd come to Keira's office.

"What is that?" Kiera asked, pointing to the manila envelope in his hand. Merlyn gave the object a sour look and handed it not to Kiera but to Gwen.

"What?" Gwen was reluctant to take it at first but she did. "What is it?"

"Trust me, I didn't want to deliver it," Merlyn said apologetically.

"Who sent it?" Kiera asked as she watched Gwen read the two page document.

"Arthur!" Gwen cursed. "How…. dare… he?"

"What is going on?" Kiera eyes danced between Merlyn and Gwen. Impatient for an answer, she took the document from Gwen, who stood seething. She read.

"Is he serious," Kiera said in disbelief.

"What nerve," Gwen growled and unceremoniously snatched the document away from a surprised Kiera.

"To be fair…"Merlyn began with outstretched hands.

"Fair!" Gwen shook the document at him. "I'll show you what's fair."

Gwen ripped the document in half and ripped it again. Then she put what remained into Merlyn's hand.

"He is….." Gwen shut her mouth and closed her eyes, afraid of what she might say.

"Tell us what you really think," Kiera eagerly encouraged. "Please, I'd love to hear a refreshing new opinion about Arthur."

"So would I," Merlyn cheerfully added.

"I can't…" Gwen said, some of her heat dissipating. But when she realized Kiera had been serious her anger returned.

"He is an arrogant, self-serving, overconfident jerk." She grabbed the remnants of the document Arthur had given Merlyn to give her and angrily ripped them again. "He thinks I shouldn't be friends with you. God forbid, someone doesn't have his full attention. If he had friends, he'd know the different between being loyal and being a neurotic tyrant."

"That's new." Kiera said, smiling.

"No, I've heard that one," Merlyn added.

"Instead of worrying how I feel about anyone, he should check his own feelings and see if he has any. It requires a heart and a soul, both of which he's lacking. If I didn't see him walking around in the day, and hold a reflection in a mirror, I'd be suspicious." Gwen stomped her foot.

"That's new," Merlyn injected.

"I like that one," Kiera said.

Realizing, they were teasing her, Gwen sighed. Her anger spent, she felt more exhausted than ever. Maybe going home early would be a good idea. Lack of sleep was making her lose her mind. Despite that, she still thought Arthur was a prick.

"What?" she said when she noticed Kiera staring at her oddly.

"I'll leave you two ladies at it and tell Arthur that Gwen received the new policy with the utmost professionalism." Merlyn said as he left grinning.

"What?" Gwen repeated as Kiera continued to stare. "Are you upset about what I said concerning Arthur?"

"No, of course not." Kiera waved away Gwen's concerns. "It just seems the temperature in the tri-state area has gone up a bit.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Gwen stopped protesting Kiera's insistence she go home. She rubbed her tired eyes and yawned as she packed the last of her belongings in her tote bag. Not use to leaving at one in the afternoon, she didn't know what to do with herself once Kiera told her to go home. Kiera took Gwen's absence to meet up with Carter Sloane. Though Kiera told Gwen, she would try to fund the Garneau project with outside investors; Gwen thought otherwise. Getting financing outside the company wasn't a good idea and Aldrich would be against it. When she presented this argument to Kiera, she dismissed it, saying it was no longer a good enough reason to let the Fashion house died because Aldrich seemed too busy to care. Somehow, she had to convince Kiera otherwise and find another way of persuading Aldrich that Garneau had great potential.

She stifled a yawn as she made her way to the elevators. She felt odd leaving in the middle of the day, but as she made her to the lobby, she could feel the need for sleep. A familiar sensation that had fooled her before. Her tired body demanding sleep, only thwarted by her mind and restless thoughts. Her recent wakefulness began to affect her waking life. Her concentration and focus shifted like the sand. Kiera thought she still mourned her father. Merlyn believed it had to do with her new job and position. Gwen didn't think so, but she still didn't know what made her toss and turn at night. One thing she was certain that if she didn't get enough rest, she'd be no good to herself or Kiera.

As she exited the elevator, she caught sight of Merlyn talking to an older man she recognized always by Aldrich Penn's side, Darby Grey. The sight of Merlyn cheered her, but she worried that Arthur lurked about, ready to hand her another policy about inappropriate workplace relationships. The thought made her blood boil.

"Gwen," Merlyn called to her and waved her over to them. Gwen took one last look around to ensure Arthur wasn't lurking about.

"Hello," she said, giving the older man a generous smile.

"You must be the brave and fearless Gwen. Merlyn's told me so much about you," the older man said with a smile of his own.

"Gwen, I don't' think you've ever been introduced to Darby Grey, he works…." Merlyn stopped himself and gave Grey and appraising look. "He does a bit of everything."

Grey laughed. Gwen liked his face. The way his eyes crinkled in amusement and warmth. He had a grandfatherly quality to him and she understood Merlyn's fondness for the older man as he gave Merlyn a playful tap on his head. Merlyn feigned pain and rubbed it.

"In a way, I do what you do, but only for Aldrich. So yes, I do a bit of everything," Grey said, in a crisp English accent.

"I commend you," Gwen said, knowing working with Aldrich could be difficult.

"The Penn's demand a lot." He teased.

"Going home?" Merlyn gestured to her pocketbook and tote bag.

Gwen nodded and tried not to yawn, but couldn't. She apologized. Both men thought nothing of it when Merlyn explained Gwen's dilemma.

"Poor dear," Grey said, taking her hand in his. He showed genuine concern. His sudden familiarly surprised her.

"You're too young to worry so." Grey said.

"I don't think I am," Gwen shrugged. "Maybe it's biological and I should go see my doctor."

"Heaven's no," Grey exclaimed, giving them both a dismissive wave. "What you don't want is some addictive medicines. Doctors poking and prodding you."

Gwen seemed surprised at his outburst.

"You don't like doctors?" she questioned.

"They have their place, usually it's far away." Grey gave her a reassuring nod. "But when a less evasive method can be found than more the better."

Gwen wasn't sure what he meant. She looked for Merlyn for clarification. He had none.

"Who do I swear by," Grey asked Merlyn.

"The barista at the coffee shop on 53rd street and your tailor," Merlyn teased.

Grey gave him a stern but paternal look. Gwen smiled at the sight of the two men's affections for each other.

"Sometimes Merlyn, I wonder about you," Grey scolded. "Of course, I'm talking about Cassandra."

Merlyn's eyes widened. "Oh, Cassandra."

"Who's Cassandra?" Gwen asked.

"A wonder." Grey came to her and entwined their arms. He guided her to the lobby doors, with Merlyn in tow.

"Don't let him talk you into anything," Merlyn warned, but he didn't give it much conviction.

"Who is Cassandra?" Gwen asked again, a little more urgently. They were out on the busy New York City Street. Grey's hand went up to hail a cab. When Gwen protested that she could catch the subway, Grey brushed her off. When a yellow cab stopped, Grey put her in the back seat. He gave instructions to the driver to take her downtown and paid the fare. It happened so fast, she didn't have time to respond. As the cab pulled away into the Midtown traffic, she turned to see Grey and Merlyn waving at her. When she turned back into her seat, she wasn't quite sure what had happened. She barely knew Grey, yet she allowed him to throw her into a cab and send her God only knew where.

Where, happened to be a small shop down in the West Village, near the historical Weehawken Street. The driver stopped in front of a tiny shop, shaded in the shadow of a tree. Gwen hesitated getting out of the cab, but got out when the cabbie gave her an impatient look. She stood in front of the shop trying to figure out what kind it was. It looked something out of the 1800s, a dark green awning with only the street number and a golden fleur de lis, that's all. There was no name. She tried to peer in the storefront window but couldn't see anything, blocked by dark tinted glass. By the door, a small brass plaque read, established 1875. She took a deep breath and stepped through the heavy wooden door.

The smell hit her first, lavender, citrus and earth. Inside the shop was small, cozy and dark. She sighed with relief to realize that Grey had sent her to a teashop or herbal shop, or some combination of both. In a corner of the stop sat a few cafe style tables. At two, sat people leisurely drinking. A man in a business suit sipped a green liquid from a stylized clear glass mug. An elderly, woman with bluish hair, inhaled the steam coming from a fine china flowered cup.

"You must be Gwen," a female voice from behind said. She turned to a woman with the skin the color of polished walnut and neat little dreads braided down her back. Her high cheek bone, a curvaceous mouth and wide set almond eyes, made her beautiful, and almost catlike. Casually, dressed in jeans and a faded pale pink tee shirt, the sight had taken her by surprise. She expected to see some old grizzled shop owner, snow capped hair, aged pale skin and a hundred years old. This woman looked like she could work at Bloomingdales or some trendy Soho store. The woman smiled in response.

"I'm Cassandra." She held out a hand. Without thinking, Gwen took it, only to have the woman guide her to the other side of the store. All the while, Cassandra stared at her, as if she had an extra eye or something. It unnerved her.

"Grey called and told me everything," she said and gestured to a small room in the back. Inside was a small office, with a beautiful wood carved desk, books, jars and bottles everywhere, a cushion chair and a tiny ornate table. She placed Gwen in the chair, all the while keeping her smile and never taking her eyes off her.

"What has he told you?" Gwen asked wearily. She looked around the room clutching her belongings to her chest.

Cassandra chuckled and held up a finger. "I'll be right back." She disappeared out the door.

Gwen thought of getting up and leaving. What had Grey said to this woman? What had Merlyn told him? All of the hocus pocus for some sleepless nights. Just when she thought of getting up from the chair, Cassandra returned. In her hand she held a small ceramic cup filled with a steaming liquid. She held it out to Gwen, who stared at it.

"Don't worry, I'm not in the habit of poisoning anyone. It's just chamomile tea. You look a bit nervous," Cassandra said with a smile. Gwen responded with a weak one, but caught the familiar scent of chamomile. She took the odd cup, with its dark glowing ceramic glaze and handmade style. It looked nothing like the beautiful teacup of the old woman, or the sophisticated glass one. The one she held was heavy, plain, yet beautiful, in its simplicity. She took a sip of the hot liquid and tasted a hint of honey. Cassandra leaned against the ornate desk looking pleased with herself.

"Is something wrong?" Gwen shifted in her seat.

Cassandra's brow with up and she nodded. "You're out of wack aren't you?"

Gwen didn't respond, but sipped her tea instead. Cassandra cocked her head to the side and crossed her arm.

"Do you believe our lives are kind of like stories?" She began, pushing back a few papers from the desk so she could take a seat.

Gwen didn't know how to answer, so she shrugged.

"Let's say they are. Given that, in the history of the world, there is nothing new. I'm not talking about inventions like the telephone or the internet, but the human story; love, hate, revenge, rebirth, and forgiveness. From Iliad to telenova, its all drama or comedy or both."

Gwen said nothing, but sipped and listened. Despite her youth, Cassandra's voice was soft and melodic, and it seemed to seep into her.

"How many Romeos and Juliets, how many heroes fighting against all odds. Hundreds, if not thousands. We go through our lives reenacting the same stories in different lives and different skins. We tell those stories, in plays and movies and even bedtime stories to our children. They have kings and queens, witches and wizards, wise men and fools."

Gwen finished her tea and placed the cup on the small decorative table next to her chair. She noticed someone had taken broken ceramic tiles and made the image of a red dragon. She thought it an odd design for such a place.

"What does that have to do with me," Gwen questioned finally returning her attention to Cassandra.

Cassandra laughed. "You honey, are living the wrong story."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

By the time, Gwen arrived home to her Brooklyn neighborhood; she didn't know what to make of her encounter with Cassandra. She stumbled out dazed, and a little confused from the downtown shop carrying a brown paper shopping bag, the contents of which, she had her doubts. Wrapped in white linen was the cup she had drunk from, and a tin can filled with seven handmade tea bags. She rode home, clutching the bag and some of her sanity, trying to digest what had happened.

At home, she sat in her apartment in the dark_._ The shopping bag lay by her feet untouched. The subway ride from Manhattan to Brooklyn drained what little energy she had. In the end, her weariness caught up with her and she made no effort to move, let alone follow Cassandra's detailed instructions. Energy or not, she didn't trust the woman and any concoction she might have brewed up in her shop. For over two hours, Cassandra's vague references that explained her life, quotes some absurd eastern mystic, and praise of the benefits of daily exercise just confused her. She swore that the next time she saw Merlyn; she'd have a word or two about Grey's friend Cassandra.

After a time, she managed a quick shower and slipped on an old tee shirt for bed. She made a cheese; half of which she did not finish. Gwen thought about working on the file she brought home from work, but she couldn't get her eyes or mind to focus. The need for sleep over took her and could no longer fight it. She shoved the file back in her bag and headed for bed.

She struggled, tossed and turned desperately, trying to find a place to be still. She dozed, but her fitful mind often pulled her awake, like a cold bucket of water. She tugged at her bedding and her clothes until she screamed in frustration and kicked the sheets off the bed. This went on for another hour before she conceded she would not win. She cursed her bed, her busy mind, and the God of Sleep who refused to give her peace. What had Cassandra said as she walked out of her shop?

"This is not your story sweetie," she said with a knowing smile.

Gwen sat up from the bed and saw the small brown paper shopping bag. Knowing full well the contents of it, her desperation pulled at her.

"Oh, what the hell," she conceded and got out of bed and headed for the kitchen. She turned on the kettle and retrieved the box out of the bag. She took out the cup Cassandra had given her. She opened the tin filled with seven handmade tea bags. Cassandra's only instruction was that she had to use the ceramic cup for the teas. Gwen preferred using one of own mugs, but relented anyway. She made the tea had headed for bed.

"Please let this work." She took her first sip. It smelled of passionflowers with an earthy after tone, like the scent of a primordial forest. She took her times as she drank; she drank slowly as she tried to clear her mind. When she finished, she placed the cup on the nightstand, stretched her limbs, and yawned. She turned off the light, closed her eyes, and prayed for sleep. The sounds of the city played out in the distance. The familiar drive of city buses, police sirens wailing far away and the sound of her own heart.

A dozen heartbeats later – and… nothing.

She cursed as she sat up in bed, fully awake. Did she actually believe it would work? She pulled at her tee shirt in frustration, only to find instead some soft and embroidered material. She looked down to find her community college tee shirt now replaced by something she'd seen in a museum.

"What the…." She didn't recognize her clothing or the bed in which she now lay. The rich opulent bedding reeked of flowers and candle wax. The sounds of the city now replaced by the gentle snoring. Slowly, she turned to find the sleeping body of a man.

"Oh my God," She screamed as she half fell out of the bed in a scramble to get away. She fell to the stone floor with a thud. A male voice grumbled briefly. She heard his shifting weight on the bed as he settled down again, the sound of snoring returning.

She sat frozen, too afraid to move, too afraid to scream. There was a man in her bed. She shook her head, that wasn't right. This wasn't her bed, or her room. Illuminated only by moonlight, it was hard to tell where she was. How did she get here? Where were her clothes? Had she finally lost her mind? Yes.

Gwen had to do something; the chill of the stone floor seeped into her. More importantly, she needed to get out of this room. She took her time getting up, making as little noise as possible. You don't poke a bear with a stick and you don't wake a strange man. She eyed the sleeping figure in the bed with trepidation. He had his back toward her, but the shape of his head, looked familiar. She took a step forward for a better view. Something about the width of the shoulders, the taper of the neck and even in darkness, the subtle shade of blond hair.

"This has to be a dream." She shook her head.

The man shifted again and turned to face her. Bright blue eyes blinked and focused.

"Impossible!" Gwen said as the face of Arthur Penn's face stared back at her.

He sat up, taking the full measure of her. His eyes narrowed as she took a step back. He threw off the bed covers just as Gwen turn to run. With the quickness of a cat, he rolled out of bed, in three strides caught her about the waist, and picked her up off the ground. She yelped in protest as he carried her back to bed and placed her there.

"Arthur," she said in panic, her hand held out in defense.

The familiar face stared down at her, the strong line of his jaw, the wide mouth, and those blue eyes. His thin nightshirt couldn't hide the musculature of his body or the power it contained. He lifted her up as if she were nothing.

"Guinevere." He scowled. He pushed her hand away. "What are you doing out of bed, you've only just recovered." He took her hands in his and rubbed them.

"I'm…." She couldn't find the words.

"The fire is banked, but I can light it, if the chill too much," he offered.

She shook her head and found the thought of him stepping away from her disturbing. She'd expected the harsh voice, furrowed brow, and condescending manner of Arthur Penn. This Arthur stroked her cheek and brushed a thumb along her bottom lip. He sat next to her, pressing his hip to hers, as heat emanated off his skin. The contact made her shiver.

"I'm fine." She said as he tucked her beneath the heavy covers and slipped in beside her.

"How can you be reckless Guinevere?" He complained and wrapped a strong arm around her to pull her close. He placed a kiss on the nape of her neck and folded himself around her.

She stayed still, unsure of how to react. Her rational mind wanted to believe this was a dream. Blame it on Cassandra's witches brew or her over active imagination. The other part of her head wanted this to be real.

"I will not have you ill again," he commanded.

She forced herself to turn to him and stare into those eyes. These were not the eyes of Arthur Penn. Those eyes were hard, condescending, and unforgiving. These eyes stared back at her with – love!

"How am I here?" she said, mostly to herself. Her words mixed with confusion and doubt.

"By the grace of Gaius and his medicines you are here. When you took ill with fever, I thought I'd lost you. You had a far off look I see now and it worries me."

She could not mistake the concern in his voice. Her head swirled with questions she wanted to ask. This Arthur had to be some manifestation of her sleep-deprived mind, but this Arthur loved her. She almost laughed at the idea and knew she'd have to pay a small fortunate to psychiatrist to figure this one out.

He pushed back strand of her hair from her forehead and placed a kiss there. Involuntarily, she sighed, relishing the touch. He didn't stop. When he found her mouth, she pulled back slightly, surprised at the sudden intimacy. She didn't know this man. Did she want to?

"If you are not well I'll stop," he said a little unease in his voice.

"I'm… fine." She said weakly. She wasn't fine. She was in a strange man's bed, wrapped in his arms and not complaining about it. What was she to do? Check for ID.

"I'm fine." She repeated with more certainty.

He kissed her repeatedly as if he'd waited a long time for the chance. This would be the reward for his patience and he would take his time. His fingers pulled at the drawstring that held her gown. He eased it off her shoulder, leaving trails of kisses there.

"I missed this," he said, his fingers tangled in her hair.

His words struck her, like a sanctuary. He needed her, desired her. No man had ever felt that way about her – ever. What was she to do with his need?

What she did was moan from his kisses and whimpered at his contact. In this dream, she knew him and responded in kind. He called her Guinevere and told her how much he missed her. The thought of losing her had almost driven him mad. She seemed pleased to be source of his relief. Whatever sadness she felt, any thoughts that weighed her down vanished like snow on a hot day. She'd never seemed so light, so free. The cold restraint that held her together burned away as he found his way into her.

Afterwards, nestled in his arms, her body ached from a familiar satisfaction. She shut her eyes; felt his warm steady breath on the back of her neck as he slept. If this was a dream, her only wish was never to wake up.

She awoke to the sounds of Brooklyn screaming.


End file.
